


I know you’re lonely looking for yourself out there

by Dominatrix



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, IT'S SO FLUFFY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-17 23:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dominatrix/pseuds/Dominatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were nights when Joan was happy.</p><p>This night wasn’t one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I know you’re lonely looking for yourself out there

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the beautiful song "Drops of Jupiter" by Train.

There were nights when Joan was happy.

This night wasn’t one of them.

She was sitting in her room, on her bed, in the middle of memories, tissues and doubts. Tears. Darkness. Pain. She had no idea how to get out. She did not even notice the knock at the door at first. Not even when the door opened slowly she looked up. Her hands kept on clenching a photograph of her with some friends at the hospital. She had looked happy, but Joan couldn’t remember if she really had been. She had always been good in hiding her true feelings.

“I heard you cry.” She lifted her head and immediately straightened up while her hands let go of the picture to wipe away the tears on her face.

“Why are you here?”

“Seeing if you were okay. But obviously, you’re not.”

She laughed, but it sounded like a sob and in the end she buried her face in her hands while bursting out crying.

Sherlock seemed to be highly distracted. He wiped his hands at the side of his jeans, bit his lower lip, ran his fingers through his hair and looked at her, rather puzzled. He was not good in cheering people up or treating a crying woman.

“Hey…what’s wrong?”

“Who am I, Sherlock?” she muttered and looked up at him. Her eyes were red and swollen, her mascara smeared over the skin below her eyes, dark shadows that Sherlock wanted to wipe away.

“I’m not sure whether I understand what you mean.” He pushed away all the stuff on her bed and sat down so he was opposite to her.

“I just…I don’t know. I don’t know who I am, and what I should be, what purpose I have…I feel so _alone_ , Sherlock. I have no idea what to do with my life.” She sobbed again, and it felt as if Sherlock’s bones were crushing in his body. It hurt to see her this way.

“I’m not a doctor anymore. Back then I could always identify myself, but now…I’m not a good daughter, my dates lead into nothing, so probably I will die alone and with a bunch of cats, although I can’t stand them, and I’m not a good sober companion, either. I was supposed to care for you, and now look at me. How am I supposed to help you with your life when I can’t even organize mine? I fail in everything I do, and it just makes no sense to me at all.”

He did not know what to respond. Sure, he could come with all the nonsense like _Oh no, honey, you’re too precious for this world. Don’t worry, you won’t suffer. There are always people who love you, and you’re young and beautiful, so there is no reason to feel like you’re going to die._

It was bullshit. The people that told you this meant it in no bad way; they just wanted to help you. But they didn’t. They just made it worse without realizing it.

 

He wasn’t there to comfort her, because he had never been a man on whose shoulder a woman could cry, but he would try it for Joan. Probably he was the worst allayer that had ever wandered earth, but he was the only one that was there right now. So despite the fact that his body wanted to restrain and his mind kept on screaming that this was not right, he crawled next to her and put an arm around her shoulder so she could bury her face at his chest.

There were no words that could belittle her pain and despair, so Sherlock decided to sit there in silence, caress her hair and give her somebody to hold on to.

After a while she started to calm down. He felt her stiffen in his arms, ducking down to escape his touch. Sherlock let his arms fall in a second and looked at her. She smiled at him, but he did not believe her. He knew that look. She tried to pretend that she was okay, but she was not. Maybe he should just leave her. But he couldn’t. She meant far too much to him to leave her behind like he left everybody behind he had ever cared about. He wouldn’t do this. Not this time.

He cupped her face with his hands and ran his fingertips over her wet cheeks. She did not try to get away from him, and Sherlock took that as a good sign, and as a sign to go on.

“I know that you’re trying to find out who you are, that you feel like you have lost yourself…And I know it’s not my business, but…Just let me help to find you.”

“Why?” Her voice was just as small as the courage in her eyes. It trembled, and he knew that she was just one small step away from breaking down. If at all. It was time for some honesty right now. Although it was hard, and Sherlock had never been an honest person, especially not when it came to feelings. But it was Joan, and he did not want to lose her.

“Because I just can’t stand to see you suffer.”

He hoped that she would get it right, that she would understand what he meant: That he cared for her, that he would never leave her alone if she did not want to be…The look in her eyes told him that she understood it. Her gaze was stronger than before, though still soft and sparkling in tears.

“Thank you” she whispered.

“You’re always welcome” he replied lowly and kissed her forehead.

She fell asleep only some minutes after she had smiled at him and had leant her head against his shoulder. Sherlock lay down with her in his arms, pulled her even closer and listened to her slow and steady breath before he fell asleep, too.

 

None of them seemed to wonder about their position when they awoke the next morning, and every time that Joan felt lonely again she just headed for Sherlock’s bed room, crouched in his bed and snuggled up against him.


End file.
